Savannah, Georgia, Day 1

Savannah Flight on Jet Blue

Well hello from warm Savannah, Georgia!

Usually I don’t blog while I’m actually on a trip, but I’m here for five days for the marathon, and judging from how much we’ve done on day one, I thought I’d start keeping a log here now, otherwise I’m never going to keep up!

Our flight was an otherwise smooth one from Boston, despite a little bit of turbulence. I happened to be sitting in a window seat, where both my front and back neighbors decided that the windows that shared a crack with their seats should be closed immediately, leaving me windowless for most of the flight. That left me with plenty of time to finish reading Laurie Colwin’s Home Cooking, and get started on a new book: Cowboys and Indies, a so far captivating history of the music industry.

We arrived to an airy southern airport, and shared at taxi to downtown. It ended up being a little steep $39 (they tacked on $5 for each extra person, and I wasn’t looking to haggle on my first day here.) We drove through strip suburbia, saw an air force base. When I travel I’m always on the lookout for interesting fast food chains, or other local specialties, but the ride from the airport wasn’t the most busy.

Savannah Apartment

Instead of staying in a hotel, we decided to rent an apartment, which ended up being both more affordable, and really adorable! After getting settled, we immediately headed to our first meal of the day: Zunzi’s, a local sandwich shop with a following. (It’s one of the most reviewed places on Yelp in general, but several locals recommended it to me. After hearing the guy behind the counter selling the African tea to the woman in front of me, I accepted the sample … which tasted like sweet lip gloss. I actually really like sweet tea, but when you are expecting unsweetened, and you get what will put someone in a diabetic coma, it’s a shock to the system.

Zunzis for all

Rebecca had the falafel, Matt ordered a salmon sandwich, and I went with Oliver’s lunch: a bed of mashed potatoes with chopped grilled chicken, and chopped house made sausage and smoked sausage. And a roll. And a spinach salad that I ended up passing on. It was quite a meal to start the day! Here’s a close-up of Oliver’s Lunch:

Zunzis Olivers Lunch

After consuming much of the meal, we headed for a good long walk down Broughton Street, one of the main drives. We popped into a handful of shops, with so many cute details. Here’s one from a gift shop called Sylvester & Co that had a coffee shop in the back.

Sylvester and Co

And here are a few photos from the lower level of Paris Market & Brocante, a shop primarily with gorgeous French housewares and gifts, with some delightfully bizarre decorations around each and every corner. I should have taken more photos, the place was gorgeous, but as usual, I’m drawn to the weird.

Hands at Paris Market
PIgs at Paris Market

Near the end of Broughton, we stopped into Chocolat by Adam Turoni, seduced by the wafting scent of chocolate that they were tempering in house, and crafting into individual truffles. I absolutely loved this quirky looking chocolate shop, and will be heading back for more before I leave. I had a single blood orange Grand Marnier truffle that was the perfect bite.

Chocolat by Adam Turoni wares

Chocolat by Adam Turoni window

Chocolat by Adam Turoni window two

Chocolate Shop

Blood Orange and Grand Marnier Truffle Adam Turoni

Of course, by late afternoon, we needed to fortify ourselves again, so we headed to Leopold’s for some good old fashioned ice cream. Rebecca went for the historically significant “chocolate chews and cream” flavor, Matt got pistachio, and I had a perfectly done butter pecan. We then took ourselves on a walk, down by the waterfront, and then back up to Colonial Park Cemetery. I’ll take more pictures before we leave, but the cemeteries here are so interesting!

Leopolds Butter Pecan Ice Cream

And then we did more walking, so we had to caffeinate. We stopped into The Coffee Fox, a coffee shop owned by a Texan (I couldn’t help but notice the kolache in the case). I drank espresso with milk, Rebecca had a cortadito (sweetened, cuban style), and Matt got the “eye-opener” nitro milk stout with a shot of espresso, yep, coffee and beer combined. Magic!

The Coffee Fox

Finally, after resting for a few hours in our apartment, we headed out for a good Southern meal at The Olde Pink House. How could we not? I must admit, I was a little skeptical, but when good friends (including one who went to school in the south and hit up the Kentucky Derby this year) recommended it, I knew I’d have to keep it on my list.

The Olde Pink House

The Olde Pink House is exactly that – but possibly it should be called The Olde Very Large Pink House with lavish rooms that made me feel like everything was magical.

Dining Room in the Olde Pink House

We all ordered beers from Georgia, and gorged on their cornbread and biscuits. The room was lively, filled with people, and one of the hostesses was going from table to table, breaking into song.

Terrapin Rye Beer

Rebecca prudently started with a salad, while I went for the she crab soup, which was similar to a clam chowder, but smooth, silky, and rather elegant. To my utter delight, the waitress asked me if I’d like some sherry *sherry!!* to stir into my soup, to which I could not possibly refuse. It makes the crab sweeter – and she was so very right.

She Crab Soup at the Olde Pink House

For dinner, Matt ordered the deep chicken pot pie, which came with a splendid buttery crust, and Rebecca had the sweet potato ravioli, with oyster mushrooms. For my meal, I knew I had to go bold, and not look back: deep fried chicken livers with grits and fried spinach. (Actual fried spinach!). It was rich. It was delicious.

Fried Chicken Livers and Grits Olde Pink House

I wish I could tell you of the pecan pie, or key lime we devoured after dinner, but wisely we decided to tap out early. We went for a very long walk to counter the meal, found everything closed (including CVS… they close at 9pm, apparently), and now we are back. Sleep soon, there will undoubtably be so much more tomorrow!

On Voting Day

I’m sitting on the couch, procrastinating, as I should be packing for my morning flight to Savannah. My thoughts feel disjointed, there’s so much to do before I leave. For November, I’ve committed to writing in this space every day, but writing isn’t easy when fatigue sets in, and somehow I’ve found myself attempting (and struggling) to be coherent well past my bed time. Will you forgive me? Perhaps this ridiculously adorable stuffed animal will make up for my fumbling?

Stuffed Animals at Home

On voting day, I find myself thinking about service to others, wondering how best to build a life that impacts others in a meaningful way. I’m not sure why I didn’t take a photo of my “I Voted!” sticker, but it’s stuck proudly to my jacket tonight. The television is on mute in the background, as I watch the poll tickers flash silently. It’s a waiting game. I can’t listen to the commentators without wanting to throw something at the television. On any channel, regardless of partisan leanings. Tomorrow we’ll know the names of those who will be serving as our leadership, and hopefully they’ll consider putting away the politic-ing, and get to down to business governing.

– – –

I read a biography of William James, and was particularly drawn to his meticulously kept reading lists. I’m fascinated by how curated reading can shape a person, and I really like the idea of an organized pursuit of knowledge, a deeper dive into a subject. I read an article in the Millions a few days ago, about a woman reading through the biographies of our United States presidents in order of their presidency, and thought that it might be a fascinating project.

– – –

Photographs today are from home – I spent most of the morning working from the couch so I could go vote during lunch time, and avoid the lines. Tea at White Heron, highly recommended if you are traveling through Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

Daily Cup of Green at White Heron

White Heron Tea Portsmouth NH

Clear Skies in Fall

Golden Trees

Moms Flower

November Rosebuds

Ornamental Kale

Parsley in Fall

Succulents

The front garden persists, despite first snow, and harsh conditions. Bright red pineapple sage blossoms, a budding rose, ornamental kale, and parsley that is still growing like a weed. It seems like the plants aren’t quite ready for winter either.

Comfort Food: Hot Dogs and Baked Beans

Leaving work tonight, I walked to the train with one of my coworkers, but then had to miss it because I didn’t have enough loaded onto my Charlie card. I trudged up the stairs as the train slipped away, and had 12 minutes to wait on the platform. “C’est la vie!” – I texted to Devon, but of course I had Laurie Colwin’s ‘Home Cooking: A Writer in the Kitchen’ to keep me company on my Kindle, so I’ve learned that a few extra minutes to myself are always welcome, and nothing to get frustrated about.

My reading was stalled however, as across the tracks, an unstable woman railed on about Menino, his wife, and Caroline Kennedy’s entitlement, and how they aren’t “of the people”. A cloud is over Boston, I should note, for those not living here, as the loss of Mayor Menino was truly devastating news to anyone who has lived in the city. He was a kind and giving man. As she yelled on, a man with a thick Boston accent stopped to disagree with her, and we all watched agape for some minutes until a train rolled in and they both got in and left. I put away my Kindle, and waited for the red line to Alewife to come.

Hot Dogs and Baked Beans

There was no broccoli tonight. I had the best intentions of broccoli. Something green, a little bitter. The truth is, I was tired, and I wanted hot dogs and beans, one of the dishes I’ve been craving since childhood. My grandfather used to make them – he always kept individually saran-wrapped hot dogs in the freezer to microwave in a pinch. For many decades, he was in the meat business, and you could say that hot dogs, in a way, are a sort of family legacy.

I used to favor exclusively Pearl’s, a family owned business in Massachusetts that boasts the best: “Once you have them you will agree that Pearl frankfurts are the frankfurts that all others should be measured by”; and I still keep my eye out for them in the store. But now I’m more likely to pick up a package of Applegate organic uncured beef hot dogs, and the organic baked beans from Trader Joe’s, which are sweet, but not sickly so.

You’ll want to warm your hot dogs in the pan before heating up the beans, otherwise you’ll have cold hot dogs, and boiling hot beans! And instead of vegetables, there were warm, buttery crescent rolls. The kind that come in a can, and give you a tiny heart attack when you break the seal and the dough bursts forth from the cardboard with a large pop.

Crescent Rolls

I’m not particularly nervous about my race on Saturday, but I know that I need to be well hydrated all week long to deal with the potential heat in Savannah. So I’ve been drinking water like a boss. And then there are the sneezers, and the snifflers, who have breeched my safety bubble while packed like sardines on the red line. I’m starting to get a little paranoid – is that a scratch in my throat? Am I going to get sick? Tonight I went to the store to see if I could find a packet of Dr. Dahl’s ColdChaser, which I got in my head was going to ward off all possible sickness, but I’m pretty sure that they are only available at Whole Foods and other stores in California. So I’ll keep on hydrating, and hope for the best.

Baked Pumpkin Risotto with Allspice Chicken

Baked Pumpkin Risotto with Allspice Chicken

It snowed today. The first snow of the season, but I’m not ready for winter. I always get a touch of the SAD – winter is long and cold in New England, and despite growing up here, it never really gets any easier. I spent the day trying to convince myself of the joy that snow brings – thinking back to boarding school days, where it was always wonderful to be on campus when the first snow arrived. Suddenly, a common occurrence was a brand new marvel: you’d see the snow through the eyes of students who had grown up in warm climates, delighted in those large white flakes for the very first time.

 

First Snow in New England

This day, however, was colored with my own melancholia, as I had a last lunch (soup and grilled cheese in front of a fire) with my friend Alexann, before driving her to the airport to fly away to Denver. I came home, made myself a cup of tea, and wrapped myself in a blanket. This never gets easy.

By evening, the sky was clear, and we were treated to a beautiful sunset.

Evening after first snow

For dinner, I knew that I wanted to make something with my defrosting chicken from my Walden Local Meat share. I had two large boneless, skinless breasts, which isn’t what I usually cook with – I’m a bone and skin gal – so I wanted a dish where they’d stay moist, and something a little bit rib-sticking for this cold fall day.

With the Patriots game in the background, I looked through my Eat Your Books bookshelf, to find which of my cookbooks have recipes for chicken breasts and pumpkin. I found myself flipping through a Donna Hay – and liked the look of her ‘baked chicken and pumpkin risotto’, but wanted to make it with pumpkin puree rather than the chunks of pumpkin she calls for, so I adapted the recipe to my own liking. It’s probably sacrilege to call this a risotto, but the dish calls for arborio rice, so I can justify it to myself. Italian purists, please look away, or consider the alternate title: “Pumpkin Rice with Allspice Chicken”.

Baked Pumpkin Risotto before mixing with chickenBaked Pumpkin Risotto with Chicken

Baked Pumpkin Risotto with Chicken

This recipe served two (very generous) portions. For four, I might double it, and you’d have leftover lunch for one, the next day. If you’d like a little bit soupier rice, I’d add a touch more chicken stock at the beginning.

1 cup arborio rice
1 15 oz. can organic pumpkin puree
2 oz. butter, melted
1 cup chicken stock
salt and pepper
pinch of nutmeg, pinch of allspice
olive oil
2 chicken breasts, preferably organic and free range (about 1/2 lb. each)
salt and pepper
a tablespoon allspice
1/2 cup grated parmesan
2 tablespoons chopped parsley

In a bowl, stir together arborio rice, pumpkin, melted butter, and chicken stock. Add a good pinch of salt, a few twists from a black pepper grinder, a pinch of nutmeg, and another pinch of allspice. Stir, transfer to a shallow baking dish, cover with foil, and bake at 400 for 35 – 45 minutes until rice has cooked through. (This batch, for whatever reason, took me almost an hour.)

While rice is baking, heat up a frying pan with a little olive oil on medium. Season chicken with salt, pepper, and a generous coating of allspice, and cook in pan, about 4-6 minutes on each side, until cooked through – it might take an extra minute or two on each side if your chicken is thick. Take off the heat, let rest for a few minutes, while you chop your parsley and grate your cheese. Then chop, the chicken, making sure to reserve the juices.

Once rice is done, put in a large bowl, season with salt and pepper, and stir in the chicken and it’s juices, parsley, and parmesan, making sure to stir well, until creamy. Serve warm.

Endings and Beginnings

rainyday

Today it rained. It was cold and grey all day long.

I helped my friend Alexann pack what was left of the home that didn’t go into the two pods on their way to Colorado. We worked through the things to be tossed. The last of the cabinets. Her landlord fed us warm apple cake out of the oven. The back of the car was packed with the last of the closet items. That was an adventure that involved folding for a quarter of an hour in the rain.

There was cleaning. I felt inspired to go home and throw out the majority of my belongings to avoid the hassle of any future moves. I inherited a Swiffer. I adopted her violets. I really hope I don’t kill them.

And then, after some hours of good hard work, we were done. Just like that. The rooms were empty.

And so we rested. We drank tea, and coffee. We got carded at the wine store. “And how old are you today?” the woman behind the counter asked me? It took me a full minute to think about it. We left with a bottle of red, and parted ways, briefly, before heading towards another friend’s house to have one last celebration.

vinodivino.JPG

We had burritos.

We stood in the kitchen, watching Love Actually, but not really watching. We talked. For hours, about all the usual things. It was good.

We talked about blogging, about business, about creating something to support women and moms. About what it means to make a place for yourself on the internet in this day and age. I gave my best advice I could. If you want to really get into blogging. Write. Start writing now. Forget about the blog, web hosting, comments. Forget about it all, and just write. For days, weeks, months really. Write until you have enough content that you can go on autopilot and learn all the things you’ll have to learn to run a website, at least, if that’s what you ultimately decide that you want to do. I think there’s so much more out there though. A blog – it can be one piece of. But the internet, it can be scary. You have to learn, I think, about the hard things. The horrible comments. The trolling. I had to tell them about gamergate, about how the internet can be a violent place for women. It really pained me to share that. It’s a lot, really. But all this – it’s nothing to worry about. Start writing now. Just write.

I’m getting a little heavy here.

We drank wine.

Tonight I’m grateful that dear friends can be kept thousands of miles away. That the internet and modern technology bring us all together like never before. I’m looking forward to a weekly email chain. A book club where you read the books together, and don’t meet. (The inverse of our usual book club, which should have been called drink wine and talk about the gym club.) Although, on further thought this evening, I realized that we could just have book club on Google Hangout and each sit in our respective houses and crack open bottles of wine and talk about the book together. Wouldn’t that be nice?